


How it has to be

by Kayylala



Series: Joker Junior Series [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Tim Drake is Joker Jr.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21511393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayylala/pseuds/Kayylala
Summary: Tim lives in fear of loosing control.He doesn't have any close relationships, he can't afford to. The potential consequences are just too high.Jason manages to worm his way into Tim's life anyway.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Joker Junior, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Joker Junior Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550455
Comments: 12
Kudos: 312





	How it has to be

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm far from an expert in things regarding DID and the info I've got is from psychology class and internet research but if somethings off, feel free to let me know :)

That voice in his head never really went away.  
  
At first, in those months after he had killed the Joker, Tim heard Junior all the time. He'd talk to Tim. Try to get him to do dangerous things.  
  
Once, he almost convinced Tim to jump off that high rise office building. Without a grapple.  
  
And he often found himself in odd places at odd times. There were numerous instances where he found himself in a rogue corridor somewhere in the Manor and many times he'd wake to be standing in the middle of the Batcave, often holding his staff.  
  
But Tim did some research and found methods of ignoring and preventing and they worked well enough. For the most part. Junior had been talking to him almost every day. As time progressed, Tim would hear him once a week, once every few weeks, once a month, once every now and then.  
  
Though he would reappear with a trigger. Electric shocks, the colour purple, the smell of rotten eggs (the Joker's smell), bright red lipstick and whenever Tim saw someone wearing way too much makeup. And, of course, every time he heard an obnoxious fake laugh.  
  
This is mostly why him and Stephanie never worked out. She wore purple all the time. Had lots of purple things. And while Tim never told her, nor everyone else for that matter, but around her, Tim found that Junior's voice was louder and more frequent.  
  
When they were sharing an apartment, Tim found himself, one night, standing in the dark kitchen with a knife in his hand. He couldn't remember waking up or walking out of his room or why he had picked the knife up, only that he had. And, up until this point in time, nothing like that had ever happened since, but that morning, Tim broke up with Steph, moved out to live alone, and always slept with his bedroom door locked from that moment forward.  
  
Tim hated it. Hated that this had happened 5 years after. He was pretty much an adult now; 18 years old with a high status job at Wayne Enterprise and money of his own. He hated how he still had a small piece of glass stuck under the skin of his right index finger's knuckle from the third mirror he smashed after seeing a paint face with a manic grin staring back at him.  
  
Tim hated that he couldn't trust himself. Hated that he couldn't trust himself to ever stay at the manor in fear that he'd kill someone in their sleep. He hated how the stupid voice in his head would laughed at him, saying how similar they looked, when Tim used to have long hair and parted it in the middle.  
  
So he confined himself. He brought an entire apartment building to live in, in case Junior decided that neighbours were just as good a victim as sleeping girlfriends. He forbade anything purple coming through his front door and avoided those loud men at Bruce's parties who laughed at everything he said as well as their red lipped wives.  
  
Living like this was suffocating, constantly in fear of himself and his demon living within. And while he knew the Joker was dead and could no long harm anyone, Junior's mission would never be over, he would never be gone, until Batman was dead.  
  
But Tim managed to find one good thing in all of this. Jason Todd considered himself to be in Tim's debt, and while Tim would never call upon Jason to owe him anything, he was glad to know that his actions paid off, even if killing the Joker meant nothing more than abating Jason's anger and saving their relationship from a disastrous fate neither would come to know.  


XXXXXXXX  


Jason is hunched over, hands resting just above his knees and breathing heavily. "You're getting a bit slow there, Replacement. You'll need to pick up your game if you want to keep up."  
  
"Please," Tim says, equally out of breath. "We both know I could whip you're arse if I needed to."  
  
Jason lets out a breathy laugh. "Whatever you say. If you still think you can show me up, I've got one more stop tonight. Of course you don't have to come if you're not up to it."  
  
The grin that slips over Tim's lips is dangerous as he sets off after Jason at a sprint. His heart rate is already dangerously high but the combination of adrenaline and wind make sure he never stops.  
  
They end up at a warehouse by the docks, filled with what Tim guesses to be about 30 armed men. A quick surveillance leads him to believe their weapons aren't of a high standard and don't have high ammunition storage. And the men themselves don't look to be of the best quality.  
  
Flashing another one of those dangerous grins, Jason nods back and kicks in the skylight and they come crashing down with the glass, taking out the men in less than five minutes and neither of them get shot, which is a bonus.  
  
At the end of it, Jason and Tim are lying down on the warehouse floor, catching their breath amongst the unconscious bodies.  
  
"Hey Replacement," Jason says. "Isn't your apartment only like, two blocks away?"  
  
Oh shit. Tim's respiratory rate somehow increases. Jason already knows the answer so there is no way he can get away with lying. "Yeah…" he responds uncertainly.  
  
"Great. Mind if I crash the night? I really can't be bothered getting myself over to Crime Alley tonight."  
  
'Yes, Jason, I mind very much', Tim can't bring himself to say. "I guess," he says instead.

  
XXXXXXXX  


While Jason is having a shower, Tim collects anything sharp or could be used for murder and locks it in a box and then locks that box in a cupboard; a security measure he usually doesn't bother with when the only person usually around to hurt is himself; which would only be his own fault. But he'll be damned if he doesn't take every step possible with someone else in the house.  
  
When Jason returns, Tim asks him to empty all the clips out of his guns and then put a lock on the zips of the duffle Tim gives him to put them in. Jason asks why and Tim simply shrugs.  
  
"It’s not that I don't trust you or anything, because I do, Jason, but we get some strange people this side of town and I'd rather be safe than sorry."  
  
Tim knows it is a pathetic excuse. He lives in one of the better parts of Gotham and Jason knows that. And anyone who is stupid enough to break into his apartment tonight won't get as far as the end of the hallway if the Red Hood is sleeping on the couch.  
  
Thankfully, Jason just sends him a weird look and lets it go.  
  
He doesn't say anything in the morning either, when Tim has to unlock his bedroom door to come out, or when he has to get out a butterknife for their toast from the locked box in the locked cupboard.  


XXXXXXXX

  
Within the next month, Jason somehow manages to find a reason on three further occasions to stay the night at Tim's place.  
  
This is an uncomfortable development because Tim knows that Jason knows something is going on with him. He never comments on anything but it isn’t hard to tell he was cataloguing all of Tim's weird behaviour.  
  
After the forth night with Jason on his couch, Tim resolves to work with him as little as possible, or to be rid of him by the end of the night when he has no choice.  
  
So Tim hardly sees him at all anymore. Which is disappointing. He likes Jason. Working with him is always more fun than with anyone else. And they make a good team. They understand how each other fight.  
  
But Tim knows it is all for the best. He would never forgive himself if Junior does something to Jason because, as far as he is aware, Jason doesn't even know about the brainwashing Joker had put him through.  
  
Sure, when he came back, Jason had investigated Joker's death. He knows Tim had shot him point blank in the chest and it took him two and a half minutes to die. He probably knows that Joker had kidnapped Tim and traumatised him, dressed him up and made him divulge information about Batman, but that is probably the extent of it.  
  
He might know that Tim has really bad PTSD after that night and couldn't bear to look at himself for months. But Tim never even told Bruce that Junior is still alive. Bruce doesn't need to know that, doesn't need to bear that burden. There is nothing more to be done to fix that problem anyway.  
  
So it is best to keep Jason at arm’s length; and even further, if possible.  
  
But he appears to be making that as hard for Tim as possible.  
  
Tim has managed to avoid him for three weeks straight but then Jason starts following him. Every night. Tim does his best to ignore him, to get away from him but there seems to be no way of getting around this without confronting the man.  
  
The last thing, or the second last thing aside from murder, Tim wants to do was be rude about this. He doesn't want to shout and tell Jason to piss off, or to say he doesn't like him or anything like that. But he can't tell him the truth, either.  
  
What would Jason say? Would he call him a freak? Send him to Arkham? It wouldn't be any less than Tim deserved. He is dangerous and he is insane.  
  
After a whole week of the shadowing, Tim's decision is decided for him when he returns to his apartment after patrol to find Jason waiting for him on the couch.  
  
"Hey Stranger. How's things?" Jason says in a flippant tone.  
  
"How did you get in here?"  
  
"I don't know. Why are you avoiding me?"  
  
Tim's brain goes into overdrive for a decent answer. Unfortunately, he is tried and he didn't expect to be having this conversation yet.  
  
"I'm not." God dammit, Tim.  
  
Jason lets out a shallow laugh at that that make Tim's skin crawl. "You're not avoiding me? So you haven't notice I've been trying to get your attention for the past week? I thought we had something good going for a bit there."  
  
"We did!" Tim hastens to reply. The last thing he wants right now is for Jason to think this is somehow his fault. "I'm just avoiding everyone."  
  
He plans to elaborate on that answer, he really does, but he has no idea what else to say in conjunction with it.  
  
Jason raises an eyebrow and gives him a pointed look that is eerily similar to Alfred's and waits patiently. The entire situation is making Tim very uncomfortable but he can't think of anything to say to get himself out of it. So he just stands there, fidgeting under Jason's scrutiny.  
  
After a few minutes of this, however, Jason must take pity on him because he finally speaks. "Look, Replacement, I don't know what your deal is, but whatever is going on, you clearly aren't fixing it by yourself. If you need help, all you have to do is ask."  
  
The kindness of the statement is unexpected and Tim appreciates it. He nods to acknowledge Jason's words, then states he needs to have a shower and leaves the room, hoping beyond hope Jason will be gone by the time he gets out.  
  
He has no such luck. Jason has the TV on in the lounge room and the blankets from the linen press covering his legs.  
  
"Uh, Jason? Are you staying?"  
  
Jason turns his head around and gives Tim a rueful smile. "If that's alright with you."  
  
Tim knows he is challenging him to say no. He knows Jason is just daring him to kick him out and then demand an explanation as to why. So he just sighs, nods and moves to lock away his sharp objects.  
  
"I'll see you in the morning, Jason."  
  
That bloody smile is still on his lips. Tim has a sneaking suspicion this won't be a once off. "Damn right you will."  


XXXXXXXX

  
True to his guesses, every night after Tim comes back from patrol, he finds Jason set up on his couch, covered in blankets, watching TV.  
  
He never asks questions again like he had that first night but he always watches resolutely as Tim locks away any potentially dangerous objects to the point Tim can't be bothered doing it every night and leaves them where they are during the day as well, accepting Jason's presence as it is; permanent.

For now, at least.  
  
This carries on for around a month when Tim starts referring to his apartment as _their_ apartment. Jason is there probably more often than he is and he can't find a way to politely get rid of him.  
  
But as far as Tim can hope, things are going as well as possible. He hasn't heard a word from Junior since, giving Tim the impression Jason isn't bearing any triggers, which he is glad about.  
  
But things were bound to go wrong eventually.  
  
Somewhere around four months into this unplanned arrangement, Tim comes home to find Jason cooking dinner in a wonderfully bright purple apron.  
  
His heart hammers in his chest as he stands frozen in the kitchen doorway, staring at the atrocious colour.  
  
"Hey, Timmers, welcome home. What had you kept at the office tonight?"  
  
Tim doesn't hear the question. Can't take his eyes off the purple. "What are you wearing?" he whispers.  
  
Jason turns a smile at him, glad he could mortify Tim with the thing. "It's from Steph," he says gleefully. "A house warming present or something. She's a bit late with it. Are you alright?" he finally asks when he notices Tim's face hasn't changed.  
  
"Yeah," Tim says quietly. "'Course I'm fine."  
  
He knows Jason very well doesn't believe him because he comes walking over to Tim, dinner forgotten.  
  
Tim hides his shaking hands in his pockets and takes a quick step back as Jason gets closer. The action brings Jason to a stop immediately and he doesn't move any closer, thankfully.  
  
"You don't look okay at all," Jason sounds worried.  
  
Tim shakes his head before he thinks about it and Jason takes another step closer. Tim takes another one back. "I'm not a fan of purple," he says and before Jason can say anything else, Tim retreats to his room and locks the door.  
  
He sits down on his bed and draws his knees to his chest, embarrassed.  
  
"That was pathetic."  
  
Tim's heart rate picks up even more at the voice he's gone so long without hearing.  
  
"I mean, terrified of a colour? Surely that's a new low, even for you."  
  
"Don't talk to me," Tim mumbles.  
  
"But Tim! It's been soooooo long. I've missed our little chats."  
  
"Leave me alone," he whispers. If Jason hears him talking to himself, he'll have lots of explaining to do.  
  
"Leave you alone? Why on earth, would I do that. I've been so bored and now I've got your attention I'm going to have some fun!"  
  
The words are followed by a laugh that has Tim shuddering and he is embarrassed to say that the knock on the door makes him jump.  
  
"Tim? Hey, are you okay?"  
  
Tim doesn't answer. He doesn't trust his voice.  
  
"Tim? Come on, I just need to know you're alive in there." Jason's attempt at a joke gets lost within the worried tone.  
  
"Ignoring your friends now are you? That's a little rude. Why don't you let me say hello?"  
  
"No!" Tim shouts, jumping onto his feet. Behind the door, he hears Jason talking to him, asking him to open the door and come out but his requests are lost amongst Tim's panic. He has to get out of here.  
  
Scrapes at the door let him know Jason is trying to pick the lock so he moves fast. He grabs the domino he keeps in his bedside table, replaces his office slacks with a pair of military-style pants he uses when training outside, and a fitted black hoodie over his shirt. He quickly laces his boots and after a moments consideration, leaves his bo staff behind.  
  
He is out the window in no time and scaling up to the roof. Then he runs. As fast and as far as he can without looking back.  
  
By the time he stops, he's legs feel like jelly and want nothing more than to collapse. His breathing is ragged and harsh in the cold night air but the panic that had built up before is subsiding.  
  
"Wooo! What a rush. Let's do that again."  
  
Tim knows better than to answer. He knows the voices aren't actually there. He knows Junior can't really speak to him. That isn't how personality disorders work. It is all in his head- just his imagination making things up.  
  
This knowledge only makes things slightly easier.  
  
Firstly, he gets control of his breathing, focusing on even breaths. Secondly he closes his eyes and focuses on his senses. He thinks about the wind in his hair and how cold it is against his face. He feels little rocks sticking to his sweaty palms where they are pressed firmly against the gravel rooftop. He considers the cold, rough concrete he is leaning against and the smell of chimney smoke in the air.  
  
He then counts to one hundred and eighty-two, his favourite number, and back down again. Twice  
  
By the time he has done that, Tim is already feeling better. His heart rate has dropped back down and his legs aren't sore anymore and Junior is gone for now. His panic remains only in trace amounts.  
  
That is until he heard the soft crunch of boots landing on gravel and Tim tenses. Currently, he is blocked from view of the intruder by the rooftop entry and he hears the footfall of the person coming closer.  
  
Bracing himself for the perfect moment, Tim waits until the person is just around the corner before he springs out, fist aiming at his own head height with enough force to knock a strong man off his feet.  
  
But he is forced to pull his punch as a familiar red helmet greets him and Jason ducks out of the way.  
  
"Woah there, thank God I found you! Where the hell did you go?" Jason half shouts, removing the helmet despite the lack of domino underneath.  
  
Tim doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to explain this without explaining it. "I've just been here."  
  
"Well I've been looking for you for half an hour. I called Dick and everything, Tim! I was worried sick!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Jason, I didn't mean-"  
  
"No, Jesus, Tim, stop. Okay? Just stop apologising and tell me what the hell went on back there. You looked like you'd seen a ghost or something."  
  
Tim has no idea how to respond. He stands there for a minute, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie and avoiding eye contact, unsure of where this conversation is going. But once more, Jason must take pity on him because he pulls Tim into a tight hug, earning a small flinch before Tim returns it.  
  
"You know you scared the hell out of me then? Why'd you leave? I can help with whatever this is."  
  
Guilt pools into Tim's stomach. "You can't, Jason. No one can. And I left because I didn't want to hurt you."  
  
"Is that why you lock yourself away every night? And everything that's more dangerous than a pillow?"  
  
"I can't control him, Jason, I can't take any chances with you right there. After what I nearly did to Steph…" Tim trails off. His hands start shaking again.  
  
Confusion furrows between Jason's brows. "You can't control him? Who? And what has Steph got to do with this?"  
  
"I was going to kill her, Jason!" Tim yells. His voice quivers and the jelly feeling returns to his legs so he sinks back against the concrete.  
  
By the look on his face, Jason really wants to know what Tim is talking about but must not consider their location appropriate. "Let's take you home, Tim. Get you warmed up. Then you can tell me what happened."  
  
Tim just nods. He allows Jason to pull him to his feet and walk him the ten blocks home. He'd ran further than he thought.

  
XXXXXXXX

  
The whole way home Tim dreads the inevitable conversation. He dreads Jason’s reaction to it.  
  
"Can you tell me why the hell you think you nearly killed Steph?" Jason asks gently, sitting himself down next to Tim on the sofa.  
  
Tim takes his time responding but eventually he recounts that night for Jason. "I woke up to find the knife in my hand. I don't know how but I do know that I was going to kill her. I knew why I had it but I can't remember anything else. And it's happened before. When I used to live at the Manor. That was years ago but it was frequent, then. I'd wake up in the fourth floor hallway or in a random study but most of the time in the Batcave. And I'd always have something in my hand. Usually my staff."  
  
Jason takes a moment to look him over before responding. "So you broke up with her the next morning? Did you ever tell her? Or Bruce?"  
  
"Of course I broke up with her after that! And no, I never told her or Bruce or anyone. What would Steph say? She probably wouldn't believe me. Say it was just some crazy dream. I'd never be able to live with myself if I ever did anything more than that."  
  
"Okay, I get that but what I don't understand is why you never told Bruce. I don't get why you're so worked up about this. You're just talking about sleep walking here, aren't you? It's not that bad, Roy does it all the time."  
  
"Bruce didn't need to know. He was under enough strain when this all started. I didn't need to worry him about it because I was dealing with it myself." Tim says, hoping Jason will leave it at this, believing Tim is just a psycho sleep walker.  
  
But of course he doesn't. "But you weren't asleep tonight. Whatever happened before had absolutely nothing to do with sleep walking."  
  
"It's never sleep walking, Jason. It's too intentional for that. It's…" Tim trails off. This is the secret he'd been hiding from everyone for years. "I've got a demon inside me, Jason. There this other side of me and, it's just… it's not nice, okay? He's violent and I'm worried I'm going to snap one day and hurt someone."  
  
The guilt of lying makes itself known in every part of Tim's body. He hates lying. Hates it. He hides enough things from the world and Jason is one of the few people he can trust so lying to him is worse. But he could never bring himself to tell the truth.  
  
And worse yet, Jason seems to believe this. He is being kinder about it than Tim deserves and he doesn't think he's ever felt so bad about his dishonesty. "Tim, for what it's worth, I don't think anyone who's this worried about being bad could ever do anything that can't be forgiven."  
  
"Jay, I literally just told you I wanted to, and nearly did, kill Steph. My girlfriend. How is that forgivable?"  
  
"Because you didn't," he says, all to nicely. "You were asleep, Tim. You were dreaming and you could have been dreaming about anyone. Steph was just the person who was there when you woke up. It doesn’t make you a bad person."  
  
Tim wishes that were true. And of course it is, to some degree. He never wanted nor tried to kill Steph. That was Junior. But Junior is him so he is just as dangerous. But he can't tell Jason that.  
  
"I think I just need to go to sleep and get some rest. It's been a long day," he sighs.  
  
"Okay," Jason agrees. "Whatever you need."  
  
Tim smiles at him but before closing the door behind him, he turns and said, "Oh, and can you please, for the love of God, get rid of that apron? Please?"  
  
Jason doesn't need telling twice.  
  
XXXXXXXX  
  
Tim has dreams of Junior that night. He dreams of living with Joker and Harley and of killing Batman for his 'dad'. He dreams of the death and destruction that will be caused if he ever lets Junior win the battle for his body.  
  
That's why Jason wakes sometime in the early morning to ear piercing screams of 'no'.  
  
He is rapping on Tim's bedroom door within seconds. "Tim! Tim! God dammit, wake up and open his bloody door!"  
  
It takes a few minutes for Tim to pull himself out of the nightmares and then a few more to collect himself and unlock his door. The moment the lock clicks open, Jason barges in and has Tim's face in his hands.  
  
"Are you okay?" he rushes to say.  
  
"I'm fine Jason. It was just a nightmare. You don't need to worry."  
  
"When you wake me in the middle of the night screaming, I'm going to worry, Tim. Shit, from now on, you're not locking this door," Jason lectures.  
  
"That's where you're wrong, Jay. The door gets locked every night and I'm not going to stop because of one bad dream."  
  
"I'm not staying in this house while you sleep with that door locked-"  
  
"Then don't," Tim says in his 'Robin' voice. "Nothing's forcing you to stay here at all. Frankly, I don't know why you do. It seriously can't be fun sleeping on a couch every night."  
  
Jason just looks at him like Tim is an idiot. "We are not having this conversation now, Tim. It's late. We'll talk about this in the morning."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
As soon as Jason leaves the room, Tim locks the door behind him.  


  
XXXXXXXX

  
In the morning when Tim wakes up, he is scared to see Jason. He doesn't want to hear anything he has to say nor does he want to waste his time reasoning with him. Because Jason can never understand anything Tim isn't going to tell him.  
  
But Tim thinks his heart actually rises into his throat when he steps into the living room and sees Dick sitting on the couch with Jason.  
  
"Well, look who finally decided to get up," Jason drawls.  
  
"Jason, what is Dick doing here?"  
  
"It's good to see you too, Little Bro," Dick smiles.  
  
"We're worried, Tim," Jason says, standing up and walking over to him. "And I didn't know what else to do."  
  
"How about nothing," Tim hisses. "I told you last night. I'm fine."  
  
Dick stands too, now, and his smiles gets replaced by a frown. "I beg to differ, Timmy. Jason told me what you told him last night, about Steph and everything, and that doesn't sound fine at all."  
  
Tim isn't ashamed to say he whines at that. Part of him wants to be angry at Jason for telling Dick what he told him in confidence, but part of him is grateful that he has. If anything, it saves Tim the pain of having to say all that stuff again now for Dick's benefit. "Before we do this," Tim says, "I need some coffee."  
  
Jason smirks a little bit and brings forth a steaming mug from the bench, clearly having anticipated Tim's actions. It's kind of nice.  
  
Once they are all seated, it is Jason who speaks first and Tim gets an odd feeling that he is sitting in front of his two very disappointed parents. "I know you told me a good deal of things last night but I've got the sneaking suspicion that you left something out. So I'm asking again for you to let me, let us-" he gestures to himself and Dick, "-help you. Because there is clearly something more you're hiding from everyone."  
  
Tim sighs and slouches further back into the couch cushions, half hoping that they might swallow him whole. He contemplates telling the truth then, and maybe it is a trick of his mind, but he thinks he hears a maniacal laughter echo through his head. If he tells them now, they'll send him to Arkham. He is insane and he is definitely dangerous. Maybe, if things continue at this rate, he'll just check himself in.  
  
He doesn't realise that minutes have passed since Jason spoke and is only brought out of his thoughts by Dick's gentle hand on his shoulder. "Jay, do you reckon you could give us a minute?"  
  
Jason simply nods and moves off to the kitchen. Once he is out of ear shot, Dick speaks again. "Is it him?" he asks and even without the direct reference, Tim knows he is talking about Junior. Dick and Barbra were the ones there for him in the aftermath of Joker's torture. They were the ones who sat by his bedside while he wrestled for control of his mind with the person Joker had created. They were the ones who knew that Junior lingered, even after Tim had killed the Joker.

Tim breathes out a 'yeah' and feels his bottom lip quiver. He hears Dick swallow the lump in his throat as his older brother pulls him into a tight hug.  
  
"Why didn't you say anything sooner, Tim?"  
  
"I didn't know what you'd say. He's insane and dangerous and I was afraid…" Tim trails off, not particularly keen on voicing his fears.  
  
"Oh, Tim," Dick sighs, "You can't have thought I'd send you to Arkham or anything like that, could you? He's not you and nothing he did was your fault."  
  
Tim resists laughing at that. "You don't understand, Dick. He is me and whether it’s by my free will or not, I still did the things he did. And I did kill the Joker. That was me, not him."  
  
"And you can still hear him sometimes?"  
  
Tim nods. "Not very often anymore. But he's still there. And last night when I came home and Jason was wearing the purple apron-" Tim cuts himself off again, choking on his words. "He nearly won, Dick. God! What if I hurt Jason? He would have killed him, he would have!"  
  
Tim's whole body sags under his own weight, eyes stinging with years’ worth of ignored emotions.  
  
"The important thing is that he didn't, Tim. You're stronger than him. You'll always win."  
  
"Jason told you what happened with Steph. I wasn't winning then, Dick. I can't trust myself around anyone."  
  
For once, Dick seems to be at a loss for words. Tim can see that he too, is on the verge of tears and only just managing to hold them back.  
  
"I think," Dick says slowly, "that if Jason is going to keep staying here, you need to tell him. If you think he's in danger, he has a right to know."  
  
Tim nods. "I know. I know."  
  
"And when did that happen, by the way?" Dick can't help himself.  
  
This time Tim genuinely laughs. "You know what, Dick? I don't know. I came home one night and he was here and he just hasn't left."  
  
Dick laughs too. "But in all seriousness, are you going to tell him?"  
  
"I can't. The less people know about this the better, Dick, I just-"  
  
"You don't have to explain yourself, Tim," Dick says gently, "I get it, okay? But he's worried and I don't think he's just going to leave."  
  
Tim sinks even lower into the couch. "I know that too," he sighs. "What do I do?"  
  
"I can tell him if you'd like," Dick offers but Tim shakes his head straight away. He appreciates the offered but that isn't Dick's job. "Or I can tell him something else. Or, if you really want me to, I can ask him to leave. I recommend against that last one though."  
  
"I appreciate that, Dick. I really do. But I don't want you to lie to him or say or ask anything of him on my behalf. I should at least have the decency to kick him out myself."  
  
Dick looks like he wants to argue but thankfully keeps his opinions to himself. "If that's what you really want, Tim. But I don't think being alone is going to help anything."  
  
"It'll help keep everyone safe. Myself included," Tim says resolutely. He has made up his mind and he isn't going to change it now. "Things got way to close last night and I can't be worrying about murdering Jason in my sleep forever. That'll do nothing but harm."  
  
A sad look passes over Dick's face and Tim thinks he might mimic it. Because, no, this isn't what he wants. He likes having Jason's company and he doesn't want to go back to living alone. But that is just how things have to be.  
  
With his heart pounding in his chest, Tim rises and makes his way to his kitchen with Dick in tow. Jason is sitting there eating a piece of toast with a newspaper in his free hand.  
  
"You guys get everything sorted?" he asks, a hopeful smile on his face and Tim's heart pounds that little bit faster.  
  
Jason's smile drops pretty quickly at the expression on Tim and Dick's faces. Tim can't, won't, meet his eyes. The atmosphere in the room grows morbid very quickly.  
  
"What's going on?" Jason asks, sounding hesitant and rightfully so.  
  
"I've decided," Tim begins and he's not entirely sure how he even manages to speak at all with his throat so tight, "That it would be best, for everyone, if I was alone."  
  
Jason's eyes snap straight past Tim and onto Dick, who is very committed to staring at the floor. "You can't possibly agree with him!" he shouts.  
  
Dick mutters something along the lines of 'it's not my choice'.  
  
In seconds, Jason has dropped the toast, dropped the newspaper, and is pushing his stool out from the bench fast enough it knocks over as he stands. It only takes him four strides before he is standing right in front of Tim and shaking him by the shoulders. "You can't be serious, Timmers. The last thing you need right now is to be alone-"  
  
"It's the only thing I need right now, Jay. Please, just trust my judgement with this."  
  
Jason lips curl up in a snarl and he looks about ready to hit something before the anger seems to pass. Something Tim would probably label as worry ensnares his features as he looked over Tim.  
  
"If you're sure," he says at last. "If that's what you need. I just need you to promise me that if you ever need anything, at all, the only thing you have to do is call."  
  
The reaction is unexpected but Tim is glad he isn’t going to have to fight Jason on this. He isn't sure whether he'll be able to.  
  
A small smile graces his lips and Jason returns it as briefly as he did, and guided by Dick, the pair of them leave and Tim is alone.  


XXXXXXXX

  
Tim sees Dick every second or third day. Sometimes two days in a row. He comes around for dinner and they eat together, sometimes in comfortable silence, other times engaged in passionate conversation, usually about something to do with their night time jobs.  
  
Sometime passes, though, before Tim sees Jason again and he finds he is missing his presence like he had the first time he placed a barrier between them. Only this time, it is worse.  
  
Tim had become so used to his presence it is hard to forget that he isn't there. Like when he comes home from work and can't smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen or the sounds of the TV playing in the background. It is empty and it is lonely.  
  
And Tim just has to keep telling himself that this is how things had to be. He has to be alone and there is no way around that without putting someone in danger. He finds himself saying this to himself over and over again.  
  
This is how it has to be.  
This is how it has to be.  
This is how it has to be.  
  
And while Dick's company is great, he just isn't Jason.  
  
Sometimes he brings Babs with him and that is always good. She has always been one of Tim's favourite people so seeing her never fails to make him smile.  
  
Until her and Dick leave and his frown grows ever deeper.  
  
During his patrols, Tim always keeps an eye out for that familiar red helmet but he never comes across it. Not even when he deliberately goes searching.  
  
He gets the vague suspicious he is being avoided.  
  
Then he sees him one night, entirely by accident. Tim had gotten distracted by something he'd seen a few streets over and went to check it out. When he sees no sign of danger but a late night vendor selling ice-cream and chilli dogs, Tim's stomach yells at him because Dick had come over yesterday night so he hadn't eaten before he left for patrol tonight.  
  
The man behind the cart tells him that it must be his lucky night. The Red Hood had stopped by not even two minutes ago.  
  
The elderly gentleman points Tim in the direction Jason had taken off in, Tim gives him a generous tip for this, and it doesn't take him more than three minutes to find Jason after that.  
  
"Hood?" Tim says apprehensively, suddenly nervous at seeing Jason again.  
  
"That you Red?" Jason turns around, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth and Tim is relieved. "Fancy seeing you up here."  
  
"Not really. I've been looking for you."  
  
"You have?"  
  
Tim is suddenly grateful for the darkness and his mask as a blush begins to creep over his face because he really wants to tell Jason he missed him. But he cannot see that going down well. "Yeah," he says lamely instead. "I have."  
  
"You didn't miss me did you, Babybird?" Jason mocks, a playful grin stretching his cheeks.  
  
Oh, God. Tim thinks. Why am I even blushing?  
  
"What if I told you I did?" Tim says before he thinks the better of it.  
  
But he isn't given the chance to regret it because Jason's grin turns into a smile. "I'd say good. Because I've hated not having someone wake me up at eight every morning. Sleeping in sure does suck."  
  
Tim laughs. Jason's sarcasm is refreshing. "I'm sure that must be disastrous for you. Have you tried an alarm clock?"  
  
Jason shake his head, fake remorse gilding his face. "Sadly I haven't had the opportunity to get one yet."  
  
Tim bites back a comment about owning a phone and instead goes to sit down next to Jason on the edge of the building.  
  
"In all seriousness though, how've you been, Red?" Jason asks.  
  
Tim shrugs. "About the same, I guess. Busy, tired and perpetually out of coffee grains. You?"  
  
"A little lonely."  
  
The comment is meant to string. Tim knows Jason meant to cause that guilty feeling rising in his stomach but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow.  
  
"You could always come and visit," Tim says back, a little more coldly than appropriate. "Dick does."  
  
Jason's face screws up at that as Tim had intended. "Of course good ol' Dickie comes to visit," he says in a mocking voice. "Your big brother coming to save the day. You must be so grateful for him."  
  
Tim bites his tongue to withhold his response. Nasty comments aren't going to help the escalating situation. "Oh, shut it, Hood. You know I didn't mean that. I just meant that you weren't exiled from my place."  
  
"Well it sure felt like I was." Jason grumbles and turns to face out at the city, staring out at the array of lights.  
  
Tim's shoulders sag. Shit, he thinks. Did I seriously mess up that bad?  
  
"You weren't," he reiterates. "I just can't take any chances anymore. You have no idea how close to the line I was walking that night, Jay."  
  
Jason doesn't say anything but Tim can tell he was thinking. "Look," he says eventually. "I'm not mad that you kicked me out. Whatever you're dealing with you gotta deal with it however you gotta. I'm mad that you told Dick and not me. I thought you trusted me more than that."  
  
Tim curses. This isn't what he expected and he currently feels like the world's worst person. "Jason, I didn't tell Dick anything. He knew already. This problem isn't exactly new and Dick was there when it all started. And I wish I could tell you-"  
  
"Then why don’t you!" Jason says, finally turning back to look at Tim. "I don't understand why you can't. Whatever it is, whatever you've done, it cannot possibly be worse than what I've done, Tim."  
  
"I just can't." Tim is glad he is wearing a mask to hide his watering eyes. He is sick of keeping secret but he can't bring himself to reveal the truth. "You wouldn't want anything to do with me if you knew."  
  
"Then give me one good reason why I shouldn't just leave right now then," Jason demands. It was a fair statement. Whether Jason knew the whole truth or not, Tim is giving him plenty of reasons to not be around him at all. "If you're as terrible as you're making out, I don't need to know any more than that. So give me one reason, why telling me the truth will be worse than not telling me. Because you're the same person either way."  
  
The lump in his throat has expanded beyond reason and Tim struggles to swallow it to allow words out. "In all honesty, Jay, I can't give you a good reason," his voice is broken and quiet as he speaks, "because I am a danger to you, to everyone, regardless of what they know. And honestly, you would be better off staying away."  
  
Jason looks at him for a moment before standing and sliding his helmet over his face. "If you came here tonight to isolate yourself even more, I'm not sure why you bothered. It was nice seeing you, Red Robin."  
  
And just like that, Jason is gone and Tim feels the shadows around him darken.  


XXXXXXXX

  
Tim does his best to go on with his life as normal. He can't comprehend why it is so much more difficult than usual. He's always been alone. That's how his spent the last few years. But since his conversation with Jason, he's never felt more isolated in his life.  
  
He can count the number of people he is regularly in contact with on one hand. There is Dick and Barbra, Tam and Steph and Cass. And while Tim thinks they were all great in their own right, none of them are Jason.  
  
Looking back, he can't remember when he started liking Jason as much as much as he did, but that doesn't really matter. What is important is that he had. Somewhere along the way.  
  
But he has burnt that bridge. It is probably for the best. This is how things have to be.  
  
But that doesn't mean he has to like it.  
  
Still, he braves on. Business at Wayne Enterprises is booming and going better than ever and he's been closing cases like crazy as Red Robin. Things are better than they have been in ages, as far as the outside world is concerned.  
  
Life goes on so all Tim has to do is find a way to go along with it. Things are as simple as that.  
  
Until they aren't.  
  
It is a fine Tuesday and he is spending his lunch break with Steph, who is looking as beautiful as ever in a pale yellow sun dress that complements her hair nicely and sporting a pair of killer black heels.  
  
It has been a nice lunch until she brings up Jason.  
  
"I was talking to Jay the other night," she begins and already Tim doesn't like where this is going.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And he's sad."  
  
"Sucks to be him?" Tim says. He isn't sure how to respond to that.  
  
Steph rolls her eyes at him. "He's been like that for about five months."  
  
Tim is acutely aware that's how long it has been since him and Jason had had their conversation on the rooftop that ended in a not so nice way. "What are you trying to tell me, Steph?"  
  
"That you should apologise and get past whatever it is that happened. Like we did."  
  
"I don't think either of us can get past what happened."  
  
"So it was worse than your boyfriend waking you up one morning and telling you that you're over without a reason and then leaving, never to be seen again for the next two months?"  
  
"This is different," Tim tries to defend but he knows Steph isn't going to listen to whatever he had to say.  
  
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Oh really? Things end on a sour note?”  
  
"Well, kind of yeah. I'm like, 99% sure he hates me-"  
  
"Woah, let me stop you there, Kiddo," Steph laughs. "I'll tell you right now that that boy does not hate you. And I am certain he'll forgive you if you apologise."  
  
Tim huffs. "I'm sure he would too but Jason isn't the problem here. I am. I can't forgive myself. So it doesn't matter if Jason will or not."  
  
"Well you better figure out a way to because you were both a lot less grouching when you were getting along." she says as she stands up, marking the end of the conversation.  
  
Tim goes home that day with a bit to think about.  
  
XXXXXXXX  
  
Shit.  
  
Tim didn't plan for there being so many men here. From what he had anticipated, this was only supposed to be a small standoff; a dozen men for Maroni and a dozen for Scarecrow.  
  
But what Red Robin wanders into looks more like the start of a full-fledged street war.  
  
At his count, there is a total of fifty-eight armed men. He needs to put a stop to this before it begins. Gangs wars always have civilian casualties and result in an Arkham breakout after one side deciding they needed more help. Which, incidentally, means a higher work load than Tim can handle at the minute.

So he calls for backup.  
  
Pride be damned, he puts the call on the open comm line so everyone; Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Batgirl, Orphan, Robin and Oracle can all hear it.  
  
Dick is six minutes out. Bruce and Damian ten. Jason and Steph fourteen and Cass twenty-one. Babs is on standby.  
  
The minutes until Dick arrives go slowly as Tim watches the scene below him play out. Guns are raised and safety removed several times and with each Tim's heart rate spikes. He knows he alone won't be able to do much. Even when Nightwing's blue and black appears by his side, neither of them are keen to make a move without waiting at least for Batman and Robin.  
  
But that option is blown out the window with Maroni's first lieutenant's brains. Immediately, Tim and Dick jump into action, aiming to disarm as many people as possible. If they can get these gangs fighting them then they won't be fighting each other.  
  
Tim hears Batman's voice ringing in his ear as he begins taking down Scarecrow's soldiers while Dick works on Maroni's. He is just hoping that they aren't packing any fear gas tonight. Having Maroni's men crazy is only going to make this that much worse.  
  
Eventually, Batman and Robin arrive after what seems like way longer than four minutes. Tim has managed to break two ribs from a kick he couldn't dodge and a slash on his right deltoid but from what he can tell, it isn't deep and therefore nothing to worry about.  
  
But he is making good progress. It must have only been five minutes but he'd fought his way through about 15 of Scarecrow's men and now that Damian is helping, he knows this will be over soon enough.  
  
And he is right. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Red Hood and Batgirl arrive on scene just as him and Damian are rounding up the last few men.  
  
He lands a punch directly to a guy's nose and he goes down. To his left, Damian is efficiently taking care of the last two men. He is just about to grapple up to the roof when he feels a stinging sensation ripple through his stomach.  
  
After that, Tim is only vaguely aware of the shouts of his name. He is only vaguely aware of the blood spilling from the little hole in his torso but acutely aware of how much pain he is in.  
  
Then he is falling. The last thing he remembers is the breaking of bone as his shoulder collides, unhindered, with the concrete floor, followed by his head, sending him into darkness.

  
XXXXXXXX

  
He hears anything before he sees it.  
  
The machines beeping. The pacing footsteps. The murmured voices. Someone tapping their foot next to him.  
  
Slowly, he opens his eyes noticing he is in the Batcave. Bruce and Dick are having a whispered argument about something he can't quite pick up on. Steph is walking up and down the length of the room. Damian is sparring with Cass. Jason is in the chair next to his bed, eyes closed but foot moving at an incredibly rapid speed. Even Babs is here, sitting behind the Batcomputer, typing away.  
  
Steph is the first to notice he was awake. "Tim!"  
  
Jason eyes snap open at his name and the bags underneath are made prominent. They make eye contact for a second before Steph jumps on him in a gigantic hug and everyone else comes walking over.  
  
They make a fuss over him. Steph explains what happened, Dick asks if he is okay too many times to count, Bruce tells him to be more careful and Damian tells him the next time he gets shot he should just die. Cass whacks him over the head for it. Jason doesn't say a word the whole time.  
  
Eventually, after they are convinced he is okay, they leave one by one to go on patrol. Apparently he's been out for almost 24 hours.  
  
Well, everyone leaves but Jason.  
  
"You should probably get some rest," Jason says once Bruce had finally left in the Batmobile.  
  
"So should you," Tim retorts. "It doesn't look like you've slept in a century."  
  
Jason chuckles. "Thanks. Seriously, though. Get some sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up."  
  
His words bring more comfort to Tim than he can explain as he drifts off back to sleep.  


XXXXXXXX

  
"Wakey, wakey."  
  
Tim wakes to a slight jostling on his shoulder and a broad grin.  
  
"There he is," Jason says, taking a step, "Time for breakfast, Timmers."  
  
Tim rises with a wince and sees Alfred bringing over a silver tray and is suddenly reminded of how hungry he is. He figures it has been a while since he's eaten, even before the 24 hours he was unconscious.  
  
Alfred doesn't linger. The butler must sense that the two have something to talk about so he checks Tim's vitals and makes sure he isn't about to cark it before leaving.  
  
"I want you to promise me something," it is Jason who speaks first. "Never, ever get yourself shot like that ever again or I swear to God I'll kill you."  
  
Tim had expected a scolding or bitter words or something to do with their last encounter from nearly half a year ago. In hindsight, he shouldn't have. He knows Jason better than that.  
  
"I promise," he replies with a smile. "Did you end up getting some sleep?"  
  
Tim doesn't really have to ask to know the answer. The bags under Jason's eyes are just as heavy as last night.  
  
"Not really," he says, shrugging. "I was worried."  
  
"About me?" Tim asks, slightly stunned. "Why?"  
  
Jason scoffs and looks him dead in the eye, "You're kidding, right?" Tim shakes his head. "’cause you nearly died, Tim!"  
  
Tim's brow furrows in confusion. "I get that, but you hate me and we haven't spoken in ages."  
  
He doesn't know what to make of the look Jason gives him; it is somewhere between disbelief and frustration. Slowly, Jason lets the expression fall off his face and something more placid fills its place. "What gave you that idea? Because I don't. Hate you, that is." Jason is met with silence. "God, you're really going to make me say this…"  
  
Tim is more confused than ever. He figures Jason probably doesn't hate him. Dislike is probably a more accurate word, he would have thought, but he has no idea what he is missing in this situation.  
  
Jason takes Tim's silence as a yes to the question he doesn't really ask. Yes, Tim is going to make him say it, whatever it is.  
  
"This has got to be the most embarrassing thing I've ever done," he mutters under his breath but not quite quiet enough Tim doesn't hear it. "Look, Tim, has it ever occurred to you that I like you?"  
  
"Not recently…?" Tim says hesitantly, earning him another scoff.  
  
Jason hands move to the side of his face in an exasperated and tired gesture. "Well I do."  
  
"Okay. I like you too. Why are you making a big deal out of this?"  
  
Jason curses under his breath. "Jesus, Babybird, you're worse than Bruce," Tim makes an indignant noise at that. "You really are going to make me say this explicitly. Alright then, here it goes." Jason takes in a big breath and steadies his shoulders. "I, Jason Todd, like like you, Timothy Drake. Like, more than that."  
  
Realisation dawns on Tim's faces and Jason chuckles a little bit as understanding comes over him. For a good moment he is filled with a strong sense of happiness before reality comes crashing down on him.  
  
"You can't," he says and Jason's sheepish grin fell immediately.  
  
"Why not?" he says, tone bordering anger.  
  
"Why would you?"  
  
Jason looks ready to hit him. "Are you seriously asking me that? Because I do! Isn't that enough?"  
  
"But I've been such a dick to you. Why would you like me after what happened?"  
  
"In my defence, or in yours, you forgave me after I tried to kill you. I could be asking the same questions."  
  
Tim is scowling now. "You weren't in your right mind when you were doing those things. I knew exactly what I was doing and how much I was hurting you and I did it anyway. That's worse."  
  
"God, Tim," Jason falls back into his chair. "This isn't how I thought this conversation was going to go. I mean, I didn't expect you to return the feeling or whatever but I certainly didn't imagine you arguing with me about it."  
  
"It's not that I don't like you back, Jason," The words coming out of Tim's mouth before he realises what he is saying.  
  
Wait… what? Hold on a minute there, Tim.  
  
"What?" Jason mimics his thoughts and looks just as surprised by his words and Tim is.  
  
It takes him a while to answer. The more he thinks about it, the more he realises it is true. That feeling of loss after Jason had left that he'd never felt before. The way no one's company is as good as Jason's. Why separating himself from Jason was so much harder than it had been for anyone else.  
  
Shit. I like Jason Todd.  
  
"I said I don't not… like you," Tim says quietly, more afraid of the words than he should be.  
  
Jason gives him a grin that is half way smug and half way sad. "Don't sound too happy about it, Tim," he tries to joke.  
  
It is Tim's turn to run his hands through his hair. This is a problem. He likes Jason. Jason likes him. This was the situation Tim was most afraid of. How the hell is he supposed to tell Jason that their feelings mean nothing now that they have established them?  
  
"Jason, I can't-"  
  
"I swear to God, Tim," Jason cuts him off, "if you tell me that this changes nothing or something like that I will actually kill you."  
  
"There's a reason I left, Jason, and that hasn’t just gone away."  
  
"Make it then."  
  
What?"  
  
"Make it go away then," Jason says resolutely. "You're Red Robin. Hacker, genius, detective and fighter of crime. You can damn well do anything and solve whatever the hell is going on with you. And if you need someone dead I'll be happy to kill them for you-"  
  
"Woah, put on the breaks there, Jay," Tim says, "No one else needs to die because of my issues. In fact, the whole thing is about not letting anyone else die."  
  
Tim can see Jason's brain working to decipher what he just said.  
  
"This is all some sort of ongoing, guilt induced, PTSD?" he asks.  
  
"Not quite," Tim answers. "But somewhere along those lines, I guess."  
  
Jason leans back in his chair and considers Tim, surveying him and concocting some sort of plan. "I'm going to convince you, one way or another, that letting us be a thing will out-weight the bad stuff with all the pros to it."  
  
"Alright, then," Tim says, grinning. Whatever Jason says from now, just the fact he is willing to fight on this makes Tim feel ridiculously happy. "I'm listening."  
  
"First of all, you get to spent time with me."  
  
Tim nods. "Good start. Is this where I say the con?"  
  
"I can't see any cons to that," Jason smirks and Tim laughs.  
  
"Fair point. Please continue."  
  
"I'm a fabulous cook. I make for great company. I'm more influential than Bruce in Gotham,"  
  
"I'm not entirely sure being the city's biggest crime lord counts-"  
  
"Sure it does," Jason grins, "You're just jealous. Have I managed to convince you yet?"  
  
The half smug, half sad smile Jason wore before finds its way onto Tim's face now. "These all sound fabulous, Jason, but there is still the fact that I'm dangerous to anyone sleeping in my house."  
  
"I'm the Red Hood," Jason says like it everything. "I can hold my own against you, I'm sure."  
  
Tim gives him a disbelieving look. "Really? So if I decide that I want to kill you one night, you're going to be able to stop me in a fight where I'm not holding back and you are?"  
  
"I'm still a little confused why you think you'll ever want to kill me."  
  
Tim sighs and goes to answer but Jason speaks again.  
  
"There's no way you're getting out of this, Tim. I'm moving back in whether you like it or not."  
  
Jason looks at him defiantly and Tim knows in that moment he is fighting a losing battle. In a way, it is nice to know Jason cares that much.

In another, Tim is more scared than he's ever been.  
  
But they've done this before. As much as he might try to reason with himself, there's no excuse good enough to convince him why he can't do this again.

Or at least try.  
  
XXXXXXXX  
  
They decide not to tell the others about their mutual feelings. Not yet at least.  
  
But Dick is over the moon when Tim tells him Jason is moving back in and Barbra is ecstatic. Bruce looks confused and asks when Jason had been living with him in the first place. Steph gives him a look that has Tim thinking she knows more than he is saying. Knowing her, she probably saw right through him. Hell, she had probably known they liked each other well before Tim did.  
  
Things between them are going well.  
  
Tim lays out ground rules this time. No purple. No rotten eggs. No electric shocks, fake laughing or bright red lipstick, for whatever reason Jason might have to be in ownership of any.  
  
He figures after he says all these things together, it wouldn't take a detective as good as him to figure out the connection with the Joker, but if Jason ever connects the dots he doesn't mention it.  
  
It has been months now and Tim hasn't heard a thing from Junior and he thinks that maybe, things don't have to be as they were. And maybe, that even if they do, in the end, he will be absolutely certain of it and enjoy the company while it lasts.  
  
Because he knows one thing for sure.  
  
This is how he wants things to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Don't be shy to let me know if you liked :)


End file.
